Sleeping Dragon
by BrodieBlue
Summary: Woe betide she who dares to wake the sleeping dragon that is Dean Ambrose ...
1. Chapter 1

**WARNING: This came from a very tired and thirsty mind.**

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"Dean ..." I whisper. "Dean?"

I place a small, timid hand on his shoulder then squeeze, rocking his limp shoulder back and forth lightly until I get a response out of him.

"Mmph?" He sleepily mumbles back.

I know it's naughty, I know he'll be mad ...

"I can't sleep ..."

"Urghhhh try," he groans.

"Okay," I agree quietly.

I then lie on my back beside him and I see him shuffle about from the corner of my eye, making sure his back is firmly turned on me. I get the message. I close my eyes and try to get to sleep, I really do. But I just can't.

"Dean, I really can't sleep," I say, "can you cuddle me?"

He growls and I know I've disturbed his sleep so much that he's now having trouble falling back into a deep sleep himself. I turn around quickly when I hear him flip over and he presses himself against my back. He brings his legs up so that my bottom rests in his lap securely on his big, thick thighs and I feel cocooned. He wraps an arm around me and his hand finds my breast; typical. But the squeeze he gives it and the heavy feeling of his hand cupping it is comforting. I stroke the wiry hairs on his forearm and kiss it before placing my hand over his that is cupping my breast. He returns the affection by kissing the top of my head. A good little girl would be able to go to sleep in the arms of a big cuddly man, but I'm not a good girl. The attention seeking brat in me now awake doesn't really want to be put back to sleep anymore.

"I still can't sleep," I whine. I purposefully say it loudly rather than whisper so even if he had been dozing he definitely wouldn't be now.

He lets out a louder growl this time.

"Stop it. I'm warning you ..." He says. His voice is louder in my ear too and it makes me get hot and bothered. When he makes a threat he means it. I've awoken a sleeping dragon.

I don't need to answer for him to know I've registered the threat. He was clear enough and he only tells me once. He doesn't give second chances. Truthfully, my heart is pounding fearfully and I know I'll regret pushing it so I lie still in his arms and shut my eyes. But there's no way sleep will take over now, I kept myself awake. I don't know why I do this to myself ... I purposefully drag my big toenail up his calf, it takes some effort to hook my leg over without disturbing him but I do it and the scratch comes as a surprise to him. I've really done it now. He instantly moves. I hug myself when he leans over his side of the bed to turn the bright bed side lamp on. He then agilely leaps over to my side of the bed to sit on the long edge of it.

"Right," he says in resignation when he grabs my upper arm and drags me up to move me to his right hand side, making me squeak at the rough handling.

He tucks his left hand around my back and pushes me down over his naked thighs while his right hand clamps around my own thighs to hoist me over his lap.

"Is this what you wanted? Did you want a spanking in the middle of the night? Because now you're getting it," he says and takes my breath away when he starts to smack my pyjama covered bottom firmly, which does not bode well for me. If he doesn't immediately spank me on the bare it means he's in no rush to get the spanking over with.

"Noooo!" I whine though we both know that's a lie. His hand warming my ass feels amazing. His hand is so big it covers the entirety of one cheek with one swat. Right now it feels good and is just what I wanted but I know that if he continues spanking me at that pace and ferocity I'll soon be a mess over his knee.

"You are so fucking selfish and thoughtless Jodie! I'm tired! I'm always on the road. You know I hardly ever find the time to sleep!"

I bite back a retort about how he's setting double standards by swearing while he's spanking me and I just take it, for now. My body lunches forward with every smack and I behave for him, I keep my body limp and bury my face into a pillow I have dragged to me and am now clutching to myself.

"Don't you?" He asks furiously.

Now the warmth in my bottom is really starting to build but it still feels pleasant enough.

So I answer "yes ..." With a bit of attitude tainting my tone. He catches on to it straight away.

"Oh baby don't get fucking sassy with me. It's 'Yes Sir' isn't it?"

He increases the force of his slaps and I know he's only slapping me at a tenth of the strength he can go at but it still hurts a bit, my ass is tingling and feeling pretty warm. But even so I can't answer him properly. I never learn.

"I won't say it ..." I mumble into my pillow.

"You will," he says grimly and he stops spanking me only to tug my pyjama bottoms down.

He rubs his calloused palm over my sheer black panties and over the lower chunk of my butt that sticks out of them. Then he pats my ass and I tense my body, bracing myself for him to resume the spanking.

"I've got your ass in my hands. You know how much I can make this hurt. Now show me the respect I deserve."

I hate how unfair he is, I can feel his hand desperately wants to start smacking my butt again. He can't keep it still and I'm going to get spanked no matter what but I just daren't not say it because I'm a pussy ... And because deep down, I love it when he makes me call him 'Sir'. I love being over his lap. I love how unfair it feels. I just love being spanked by him.

"Yes Sir," I say softly. My voice is a bit muffled by the pillow but he doesn't mind, he likes it. It sounds even better coming from my mouth when I'm being reluctant and pathetic. The bastard can't stop himself laughing at me.

"Good girl."

He then gives my ass a few warning taps before unleashing the next round of smacks. Now these do really hurt. The tough part of the base of his hand thuds against my bare skin and his palm and fingers bite into the middle swell of my cheeks where my silly panties offer little protection.

"Oh Jodie you do get yourself into really, fucking stupid situations don't you?"

I can hear from his tone that he's enjoying this. I know he'll be feeling a little vindictive pleasure that he's making me suffer for depriving him of sleep. The other pleasure he gains from it is how I feel stretched out across his thighs. My warm weight draping over him, his left hand clutching at the bare flesh of my waist because he couldn't resist sliding his hand up my roomy t-shirt. And of course the feel of my ass bouncing under his hand and the extreme warmth it is radiating.

"Yes Sir," I reply.

This time he doesn't laugh but he makes an appreciative 'mmm' sound instead.

"Do you think I want this when I see you? It happens every fucking time we hook up!" He says, like it's a chore.

But I don't even think to neglect to respond with 'Yes Sir' because now I'm feeling quite raw and I'm softly whimpering. He can hear, so he takes it to the next level.

"Alright," he says and let's up on me so he can carefully peel down my panties.

Up until this point I had layed still over his lap, I hadn't wriggled. But now he was rubbing my completely bare ass and it didn't feel too comfy.

"You're so pink," he says in admiration.

"It looks so beautiful. You're so bad Jodie," he says and I don't look back at him but I just know he's shaking his head at me dramatically.

He then leans over me to brush my hair back from my face and mumble in my ear.

"I'm going to make you cry, you naughty girl. You're not getting off my lap until you're red and _crying_."

I was wet already, my pussy had felt comfortably warm and damp but now I could practically feel myself creaming at his threat. He straightens up to stroke my cheeks again and I feel him parting them, he runs his hand between my legs, right over my swollen pussy lips and tutts.

"Wet," he says in disgust.

He then adjusts my position over his lap.

"This is a punishment. Remember that," he says then I feel his hand leave my ass to deliver the first smack to my uncovered bottom.

That one burns more than the others had and I think he may have increased the intensity of the slaps now we are reaching the finishing line. I want to take it like a good girl but my moans are turning into wails. He puts up with that but he won't tolerate me trying to make his job hard so when I put a hand back to shield my bottom from his fury he sighs heavily and pins my wrist against my back with his left hand. Hating having my movement restricted I start to kick my legs but I make a conscious effort to not clench my cheeks, I know I'll only hurt myself more if I do that. When my foot nearly connects with his head because I'm kicking my feet so high he stops to steady my legs with a slight touch to my calf. He waits for me compose myself before telling me off.

"I haven't been spanking my little girl enough have I? Have you forgotten how to take it like a good girl? I don't think I go anywhere near as hard on you as you need because you still writhe around," he jiggles me over his lap to illustrate his point, "and misbehave and disobey me."

"No," I whimper.

"No what?"

"You don't spank me enough," I grumble.

He bursts out laughing in disbelief. "Hmm? What was that? Would you like to say that again?"

"Erm I mean you do! You do spank me enough! You spank me all the time! No, I mean - I'm sorry!" But it's too late and he doesn't care what answer I give.

"Fuck Jodie! When will you ever learn?"

A silence follows in which he rests his right hand on my thigh and I'm twitching, nervously awaiting his decision on what to do now.

"Bring me the hairbrush," he eventually says.

"Noooo!" I whine. "Dean I don't want to!"

He doesn't say anything so I twist around to face him but he meets my desperate face with a stony look. I continue to plead and beg for his mercy in this tone until he snaps and yells at me.

"Get the hairbrush now! Don't make me tell you again!"

That's when the floodgates open. He can make me cry with just the threat of the hairbrush; that's power. He leaves it to me to pick myself up off his lap to fetch the hairbrush. I could have cried it out over his lap and delayed the inevitable a bit longer but then I risked invoking his wrath even more. I was going to get the hairbrush and that was it.

Rising off his lap, though not easy because I feel so weak by this point, was not impinged by my pyjama bottoms and panties because in my frenzy I had kicked them half way across the room. I rub my burning backside tenderly when I get up. I don't know why but you always feel the need to rub it yourself, but if he did it I would have leapt in the air at his touch. But he wouldn't allow it and really I knew he wouldn't.

"No rubbing," he says and pulls my hands down roughly. "Hurry up or I swear to god I'll make you sorry."

I scowl at his meanness because he can't see my face and walk to the dressing table I'd left my hairbrush on. How could he make me sorrier than I already was? But I understand what he means, there is always a way to make things _worse._ When I take the walk of doom back to him I put the hairbrush in his outstretched palm and I just can't look at him. I knew he'd been watching me and enjoying my chastisement.

"Look at me," he says. I instinctively sink down to my knees before him and put my hands on his huge knees. He puts his hand under my chin and sets down the brush beside him.

I look at his beautiful, cold blue eyes because I want to. I like that they can smoulder and explode ovaries or put the fear of God into you, at his will. Right now fear and lust are very closely intertwined.

"This is what you earned. This is what you get when you push me."

I clasp his hand that is holding my head up and nod meekly but his hold does not soften under my touch. He is not sympathetic, he does not feel guilt. I find that incredibly attractive.

"Good girl," he praises me when I attempt to control my sobbing with shuddering breaths.

He then lets go of my chin and picks up the brush. He taps it in his left palm for dramatic emphasis of what he is about to say.

"I'm going to give you five of the hairbrush. You will count them and you will say 'thank you Sir' after every smack."

"Yes Sir," I say a little wobbly.

He shakes his head at me again, frowning, before patting his broad thigh.

"Get over my knee then."

I tumble ungracefully over his lap because he pulls my wrist as I'm leaning over him. But at least I am in position and it will be over soon to become a memory, though a painful and lasting one.

"Jesus Christ girl ..." he says when his left hand is squeezing my waist again, making sure escape from him is impossible.

I then feel him pat my ass a few times with the cool, smooth, hard wooden back of the hairbrush. I had bought that very brush because I was hoping it would be put to that use one day but boy did I hate it. But I also needed it from time to time ...

"You ready?" He asks.

I will never be ready for the hairbrush but what's the point in saying no?

"Yes Sir," I say and hold my breath in anticipation of the first stroke.

The first smack cracks loudly against my ass. I don't even think he's smacked me hard, I think he's just flicked his wrist and given it a bit of welly but nothing over the top. However, my bottom is soft and delicate, it is no match for his hand and sure as hell is no match for wood. It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts and there is no better way to describe how it feels.

After gasping and moaning aloud I say, "One. Thank you Sir," like a wimp.

He rubs my ass with the brush to prepare me for the next stroke and I try not to clench my cheeks but it's so hard. I know he won't bring it down until I relax them though. So I relax and mercifully feel swift retribution. I cry out the count and thank him for every stroke. Not just because he told me to but because I am grateful that he disciplines me and understands my needs. I somehow manage to get through the five, but not with dry eyes. I let out a heavy breath and go limp over his lap when I know it's over. He strokes my thighs but doesn't offer any words of comfort until I'm ready to receive them.

"Are you going to be a good girl now?" He asks when I've quietened down somewhat.

"Yes Sir ... Can I get up now?"

"Of course," he says.

Feeling sheer exhaustion and the overwhelming need for a kiss and a cuddle I slump to my knees in front of him and rest my head in his lap. He cradles the back of my head with his hand.

"What am I going to do with you?" He says.

I shrug and he laughs.

"Good girl," he calls me soothingly and strokes my hair.

I'm aware of how late it probably is and I should be ready to go back to sleep now but there's just one more thing I want to attend to ... I raise my head and slide my hand up his boxers. I can see he's hard, he was stirring when I was lying over his lap but he never fully got there. My hand finds his fully erect cock and I squeeze the warm, hard shaft.

"Fuckkkkk," he growls. "Jodie you are so crazy."

I then scrabble at the elastic band of his boxers and release his aching cock. My mouth is hot and wet from crying and it just wants to be stuffed full of his cock right now. Without any hesitation and no resistance from him I take it into my mouth, pushing my mouth down around it, making it go as far back as it will in my mouth without me gagging.

"I can't believe you just made me fucking beat you. It's crazy. So crazy. Oh my god!" He sighs at my enthusiasm.

He tastes good and I'm pretty sure my mouth feels good. He puts his hand in my hair and kneads his fingers against my scalp but he doesn't attempt to control the blow job, he lets me do what I want.

"Jodie I'm tired. We shouldn't ..."

His protests are only half hearted though because he gives into his animal desires very quickly. He leans over to rub his hand between my parted knees.

"You love this," he says on feeling me throbbing and swollen.

"Fuck!l" he then curses, throwing any doubts he has to the wind.

He puts his hand on the hem of my t-shirt to pull it over my head, which I assist with. Then he grabs my hair and pulls me lazily on to the bed because he knows I'm going to follow him. He pulls open a draw next to the bed hastily and kicks off his boxers. He withdraws a condom and I watch him roll it on as I'm lying on my side, panting and teasing my clit. He gets on to the bed and easily lifts me under my armpits to push me against the wall. He kneels in front of me and I already wrap my legs about him and raise my hips up, I'm familiar with this position. He lifts me slightly and then pulls me down on to his dick. This is about the only position we can fuck in that doesn't put too much pressure on my ass. But to be honest I am exhausted, I think he is too but we both need to cum. I fling my arms around his neck and hold on to him while he impales me. I flit between pressing my head into the crook between his neck and shoulder and throwing my head back to softly groan at the feel of him stretching me to what feels like my limits. I can feel his thighs rubbing the soft inner skin of mine, we are stuck together by our sweat and my ass feels swollen and warm. The pain hasn't come yet but it will in a few hours, when I'M trying to sleep. That's karma for you.

Right now everything feels lovely. I feel safe, warm, wanted and that makes me cum. He cums at the prompt of feeling my pussy's grip tremble around him. He rests his head on my shoulder too and raises his mouth to kiss the side of my head. When he's about ready to drop he gently lifts me from him and pads off to the en suite to dispose of the condom. I cuddle up under the sheets and my ass is pulsing but that will help me drift off to sleep. My eyes were already drooping closed of their own accord when he slips in behind me and curls himself around me.

"Do you think you will sleep now?" He whispers.

"Mmm," I grunt.

"Goodnight Sweetheart," he says even more quietly and kisses the top of my head to send me to sleep.

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**DISCLAIMER: Minimum time and effort was spent on this. I accept no responsibility for repetition and lack of creativity.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Another little scene between Jodie and Dean.**

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I lie on the bed naked and quivering with my need. I've waited five days; five days for him to finally let me have some release. He stands at the end of the bed, watching me struggle to still my body with slight interest. He's only been at my place all of five minutes and I'm lucky enough that he has decided to not keep me waiting much longer. He didn't waste time with greetings; instead he cut to the chase as soon as I opened my door to him.

"Go upstairs, take off all your clothes, lie on the bed and wait for me. Now."

Of course, I followed his orders without hesitation and now I watch him unbuckle the belt of his jeans, slip the strap through the loops and carelessly toss it aside. He releases the metal button on his jeans and pulls down his zipper. All this he does at his own pace, not too slow to tease me or too fast to urgently satiate his needs. Then he tugs his jeans down his thighs, all the way down to his feet; revealing his smooth, slightly honeyed skin. But he leaves me in no doubt that this isn't for his pleasure. He isn't hard. I've always prided myself on being 'skilled' and attractive to most men, in my own way. Make no mistake, I am. But not around him, he's taught me humility. His eyes are cast downward, his heavy brow shadowing their pretty hue. He then pulls at his socks, peeling them from his perfectly formed feet. Now don't think I'm weirder than you no doubt already think I am, I don't have a thing for feet, but his are as perfect as feet can be. There is no part of him I wouldn't worship when I feel like this, including his bare feet. He straightens up and fixes me with a gaze, as if he has felt my hungry eyes on him this whole time.

"How wet are you? How wet has just thinking about my ass, how good I taste, how much you want to feel my asshole on your tongue, made you? You've been thinking about this all day. Haven't you?"

I'm struck speechless, so I say nothing.

"Answer me."

He doesn't raise his voice; on the contrary he lowers it, almost growling at me. I blush thinking about the answer I must give.

"I can feel I'm very wet, but not by touching. I did as you told me to, I edged myself, but I never touched myself. Sir."

He smiles, but sighs.

"I know. I enjoyed your videos, very much."

Did he? That's the first I have heard of his pleasure. I received the receipt of their delivery, but nothing else.

"But I admit, I'm a little disappointed. I was so sure that you wouldn't be able to wait, that you'd fail. I'd much rather punish you. I love making you suffer, watching you suffer at my hands ..."

He laughs and I see his hand go to his cock. It seems absent minded, though I know when he's in this mood, everything he does is deliberate. I can see that under the gentle movements of his hand he is getting harder.

"But I'm a man of my word. For once, you were a good girl and I will give you the reward you asked for."

My mouth waters at the thought. After edging myself twice a day for five days, I earned this, I deserve this.

"But, don't get too excited just yet, there's always another _but_." He says when he sees my tongue protrude slightly from between my parted lips.

"_But_ ... I want to hear you ask for your reward again, as graciously as you did then."

It was so much easier to type out what I wanted than to speak it. He knows this.

"Please Sir ... Please ... Can I rim you?"

He screws up his face.

"Is that all you've got? You had a lot more to say in your email. Ask me again. This is your last chance or you get no reward and I'll beat you with my belt instead. Does that sound like a fair deal?"

"Yes Sir."

It is the only possible answer I can give. Though I notice he doesn't suggest he will edge me again. Oh no. He wants me to cum, it's just that he wants total control over it. He wants to be there when I do, he wants to be the physical cause of it. I know my power lies in my ability to cum for him. I could disobey him and I wouldn't really be losing, but I'd come off sore and I wouldn't get to eat that gorgeous ass. I'm so desperate for it now, so anxious that I will cum at the first taste of him if he makes me wait any longer, that I beg. I am filthy, yet ingratiating and polite, just how he likes me to be.

"Please let me taste your ass. There's nothing that pleases me more than licking your asshole, pushing my tongue deep inside you. I want to clean the dirtiest part of you. There is no greater honour. Please Sir."

He smiles widely as he listens and laughs when I've finished begging.

"That's not exactly how your email went, you missed the part where you said that ... How did you word it?"

He makes a show of scratching the scruff on his chin while he tightly clenches his hardening cock in his other hand.

"You could spend all day under my ass, but you're afraid you'd die of pleasure if you did? You put it much more poetically than that. Usually you're a woman of many words, but when you're like this ... Naked. Legs spread. Waiting for me to fucking squat over your face so you can bury your tongue in my filthy fucking asshole, you're tongue tied."

I swallow the surplus of saliva that has gathered in my mouth.

"Yes Sir," I say weakly.

I like him best when he is uncouth.

"I'm done with this. You can have your reward now."

I'm already panting and he's not even near me yet. He walks around the bed, then carefully lifts his leg over me when he reaches my side. I watch the meat of his thighs wobble slightly as he drops himself onto his hands and knees over my body, straddling me. I raise myself up, to make myself comfortable against the pillows, and to make sure that all I can see is his ass in my face. He spreads his thighs and arches his back, deepening the smooth curve between his waist and ass. He thrusts his ass backwards, in prime position for me to revel in his glory. It's rare that I get to do this, so I don't get straight in there, I elongate my nose and gently nuzzle his asshole that is peeking out a little between his cheeks. The muscle feels tightly bunched and unwilling to let me gain entry just yet.

"Thank you Sir," I say, which he accepts without comment.

I inhale a little, breathing in his pheromones. Then I stroke his smooth ass with both my hands and press the tips of my fingers in to gently spread his cheeks further apart. I press my open nostrils against his hole; I know he'll like the feel of my warm breath against him and my nose stimulating him.

"How good do I smell?" He asks me, I glance up at his form; he's not looking at me as he asks this.

At first he smells clean and fresh, but when I breathe in deeply I pick up his natural, musky, masculine scent.

"Incredible," I whisper.

'Yeah, there's no better smell than me. Nothing smells better, to you, than my ass. I want to hear you say it."

I'm not sure if he can make me blush right now, I'm falling so deep into the depths of my pleasure that I don't feel any shame.

"Nothing smells better than your ass, Sir."

"Good."

Then he falls silent and lets me enjoy him in quiet. After rubbing his scent on my nose and almost feeling high on the smell of him, I lightly place my lips on his hole. I kiss his asshole and feel his body shudder, just a bit, when a laugh leaves his throat.

"I like it when you kiss my asshole. It's so much more ... Degrading than licking it, I think. Keep doing it. Don't stop until I say."

But this is my reward, so when I can no longer stand making do with only licking his taste off my lips I take what I was promised and caress his hole with my tongue. He instantly twists around and pins me by my throat, flattening me on the bed. I flinch when he raises his other hand, expecting him to slap my cheek, which he does. It's always a shock, even when you know its coming.

"I told you to keep kissing my hole until I said you could stop, but you couldn't wait, you greedy slut."

He slaps my cheek again, dragging a small whimper from my mouth. My pain tolerance is high, but I've never liked the sharp sting of his fingers striking my cheek, it makes my eyes water and the hurt lingers. He knows he's got through to me now.

He looks down on me as his inferior, sub, bottom, bitch ... And maintains eye contact just long enough to remind me I am all of those things.

"You can lick my ass now," he says, "but do it well. Please me."

He turns around to straddle me again and I'm only too keen to do as he commands. At first I close my eyes as I draw my tongue over his asshole slowly, helping me focus on just how wonderful his asshole tastes and nothing else. But I open my eyes when I hear him groan. He changes his position so that he supports himself on one hand, and his other goes back to pleasuring his dick. I realise I have become lax in my technique when he speaks.

"Point your tongue."

Then he looks over his shoulder to watch me do so.

"That's it. I want you to push it in, nice and deep."

I concentrate on pressing my tongue as far up his now slicked passage as I can get, but I can't help looking up at him watching me. I know seeing me service him is enhancing the experience for him.

"Show me your tongue. Hold it out," he then says.

I obey him, though to what end I don't know.

He rises from me to face me again, leans down over me and spits on my outstretched tongue.

"There you go," he says, as if he has given me a gift.

It's a gift I gratefully accept and I eagerly swallow it. He bites his lip, then shuffles forward on top of me and rests his balls on my mouth.

"You liked my spit?"

"Yes Sir, I always do," I mumble beneath him.

He smiles, "I never understood that," then he laughs. "I know that will make you cum ... Your mouth full of the taste of my ass and now my spit.'

He doesn't give me a chance to answer, quickly straddling me again. I am then surprised by his hand smacking my engorged clit, I cry out at the harsh contact, but I'm soon trembling when I feel his fingers tease me. I grip his hips; dig my fingers in, hold on to him, too weak to continue my work.

"Come on. Long, slow, gentle licks," he coaxes me.

I do as he says. He knows me too well; I'd been resisting it, knowing it would make me cum. Forcing myself to lick his asshole again is the undoing of me. I bring my legs up, I curl my toes and I shake uncontrollably. When I've ridden out the peak of my pleasure, I hear his breathing become more uneven. I know he is breaking.

"Cum in my mouth," I command him; quietly, confidently.

He turns around and I open my mouth, deliberately slowly. I look him in the eyes as I wait for him to unload in my mouth. But then he grabs my throat, because he always wins ... and that's good, that's how I like it. Keeping my throat open is a struggle, but he lets go just in time. As soon as his hand leaves my throat he drives his cock into my receiving mouth and I let the thick, warm liquid fill it up. I wait for him to squeeze every last drop into my mouth, I endure the taste of it, then swallow when I know he is no longer in need of my receptacle.

Now he is done, he rests his big hands on his thighs and sighs out heavily, before looking down at me, with a milder expression on his face.

"Did you enjoy your reward?" he asks me.

I nod, "Yes Sir."

"Was it worth all the aching and _throbbing_?"

He drags the word out, making it sound beautiful. Without a doubt it was, and I would do it again, I would do anything for him, in a heartbeat.


End file.
